


i'll be seeing you

by princessrorora



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Christmas fic, F/M, Prompt Fill, future garcy kiddo, garcy, garcy baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 22:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15543081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessrorora/pseuds/princessrorora
Summary: Flynn and Lucy get a little visit from a stranger from the future.





	i'll be seeing you

**Author's Note:**

> who else is nervous but excited about the timeless movie??? i wish we were getting season three but at this point, who the heck knows what happens.  
> this is straight up me just filling prompts and daydreaming about playing garcy's future daughter. like. let me do it. 
> 
> aNYWAYS. enjoy!

Garcia Flynn knows when he’s being followed. 

He also knows that he should be more alarmed. The mission had had one too many trials as it was. Right off the bat, they’d found themselves in the middle of a brawl with a pair of Rittenhouse agents. Or rather, _he_ had while Wyatt got Lucy and Rufus out of there. They’d been expecting them all along, despite the fact that the Time Team had attempted to jump a day ahead of when the Mothership had landed. 

And then after that, it’d been trial after trial to regroup and get into this swanky, overcrowded New Years Eve party in 1956. So really, what was one more Rittenhouse goon on their, (more specifically, his), tail? 

Nonetheless, it was a little unnerving. He might’ve known when he was being followed, but this time around, he got the feeling that whoever was trailing him wasn’t the run of the mill sleeper agent. He _almost_ hadn’t even noticed they were there, which then led him to wonder just how long they’d been following him. Once he’d figured it out, he’d slipped out of the party, hoping to draw whoever was following him away from the rest of the team. 

Truthfully, it was also a slight blow to the ego.

He was just too distracted. His team was scattered all around the crowded party, and given how swimmingly things had gone thus far, anything could still go wrong. He loathed to be separated from everyone, and it made him snort just to think of how quickly things had changed. Rufus was behind the scenes posing as a waiter, but on the hunt for a certain set of nuclear codes that Rittenhouse was gunning to get their hands on. And much to his chagrin, Lucy was on Wyatt’s arm amidst the glamorous couples at the party. 

It was stupid to let his thoughts turn to jealousy. Especially given the fact that Lucy slept curled up at his side nearly every night, and had happily done so for the past few months. And then some, really. He thought back to the numerous times she’d taken her hand in his, when she’d sit next to him on movie nights and the handful of times her lips had brushed his in motions too purposeful to be accidental. 

Really, he knew that it was stupid of him to go green inside when it came to her and Wyatt. Not only did Garcia have no claim over her, given that she was her own formidable woman who made her own choices. But also because Wyatt had become so determined and so close to getting Jessica and unborn child back. And Lucy wasn’t pining for him anymore. She had admitted to Garcia on one of their many, many late nights of talking that she was finding herself moving past everything. 

But surely that didn’t mean moving on with him, did it? He _couldn’t_ let himself hope. Not even when Lucy consistently chose him in the smallest of ways. He _couldn’t_ allow himself to hope. If he did, _something_ would send it all tumbling down around him.

There was a shuffle behind him, and he could tell by the drag of it that it was intentional. Whoever it was _wanted_ him to know they were there, that the chase was coming to an end. Garcia huffs and gives one last sweep of the garden he had found himself in, ensuring there were no bystanders before whirling around, posture straightening and hands curling into fists in preparation for fighting-

A _girl _?__

____

__

Small hands curve around the fist that had nearly collided with her face. She was a young, small girl, no more than eighteen, most likely. Her dark eyes were wide and startled, but her grasp on his hand was strong. He frowns, startled by the fact that he’d almost attacked her, but more by the fact that she’d… _stopped_ him?

The shock wore off in an instant though. He’d fought Emma personally. He knew how Jessica could fight. Rittenhouse didn’t skimp out on training their female agents when it came to fighting. And most of the time from what he’d seen, it was the least likely of agents who were the most capable of holding their own in a fight that could do the most damage. 

In his brief moment of shock, he knew a well trained agent would have taken that chance to take him out, no matter the size and gender difference. But instead, the girl lets go of his fist, her hands shaking slightly as she gapes up at him. 

“What do you want?” He snarls, grabbing her by the wrist before she could get away or make any move to attack. 

The girl flinches, but she doesn’t try to yank herself free. Her eyes were wide and filled with tears, her lips even giving a little quiver. If she _really_ was a Rittenhouse agent, she was laying it on a little too thick with the innocent doe eyed act. And at this point in all their missions, he knew better than to trust anyone, especially someone who had been following him, just because they could provide a few crocodile tears. 

Still, something inside him softens, just a bit, and he loosens his grasp slightly. 

“Why were you following me?” He demands, narrowing his eyes. 

“I…I…” Her voice is shaking. “I’m not Rittenhouse. Y-you and your team are safe.” She whispers, and this time it’s his turn to be startled. “I just…I…I had to...” She breathes in deeply, and before he can blink, she’s slipping out of his grasp and taking a step backwards. “Oh, this was such an awful idea. Mom is gonna kill me.” She adds under her breath. 

“Uh…” Garcia starts. 

She takes a deep breath and fiddles with the blue fabric of her simple dress. He realizes for the first time how out of place it is, given the glitzy party going on inside. Sure, it was accurate to the year, but not the setting. “Yeah, this was a bad idea.” A sheepish little laugh escapes her. “Maybe I should just…go back to the party, s-sir.” 

“I don’t think so.” He catches her arm before she can wander away. This wasn’t adding up. She clearly had the stealth and agility of a well trained agent. She knew about him, and the team. But if she wasn’t Rittenhouse, or at least if she was saying she wasn’t, then who was she? It wasn’t like Agent Christopher had sleeper agents of her own interspersed throughout time. 

And if she did, well, he missed the memo. 

“You’ve been tailing me for a good half hour. You know the name Rittenhouse. You know me, and my team. So I think the party is going to have to wait, kid.” He hums. 

“An hour, actually.” She mutters, pulling herself out of his grasp once more. His lips thin in irritation, but then, her face lit up with a smile that was oddly…familiar. “Sorry, I don’t mean to keep showing you up. I had a good teacher, I guess.” 

“And who might that be?” Garcia narrows his eyes. “ _Who_ sent you after us?”

“No one. I sent myself.” Her smile wavers. “I’m on your side…Garcia.” She promises, her voice hesitating over his name. “I’m…I’m going against what I’ve been told to do in order to bring you this but…I figure you might need it more than I do.” 

Garcia fights the urge to rake his fingers through his hair in frustration. He’s tired. This mission has been draining on him enough, and now, this cryptic girl appears and he can’t get his head on straight. Still, he catches the movement of her hand going to her purse, and his own flies to the gun at his hip without question. 

She’s anticipated that motion, but instead of scaring or stopping her, it just seems to make her smile wearily. Almost in a _'oh, you’_ sort of expression. There’s _familiarity_ in her face.

It hits him like a punch to the gut how likely it is that he’s speaking to someone from the future. From _his_ future, given the way she’s smiling as she pokes around in her purse, unbothered by the gun he held firmly in his hand. She’s not threatened or scared of him, and if he really thinks about it, she hadn’t _actually_ been scared when he’d had her in his grasp either. There’d been tears in her eyes, but more than that, there had been wonder.

“Who are you?” He asks lowly. 

“I can’t tell you.” She lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Gotta preserve history and the future. All that jazz.” Her posture is a little more relaxed now, as she comes to stand closer to him. “Your hand, Garcia, please?” She reaches out to him, her lips curling into another reassuring smile. “This isn’t a trap, I promise.”

Frowning, Garcia keeps one hand on his gun and carefully holds out his other for her. She makes a soft clucking sound under her breath and shakes her head. “I’d say I’m unarmed to comfort you, but that would be a lie. Just know I won’t use it, and you won’t need to use yours either, okay? _Really._ I promise I’m on your side.” 

“You sure make a lot of promises, kid.” He mumbles. He shouldn’t trust a word she says, but he does, for some idiotic reason, and his hand slowly slips from the gun to drop at his side. 

“I always keep them.” She then places a roll of tape, _the_ roll of tape they’d been hunting for, in the middle of his palm. 

He gawks down at it, turning it over in his hands and inspecting it. His rational side is telling him not to let his guard down, to remember that this could be a trap, that Rittenhouse was craftier than anything else in the world. 

But. 

“It’s the real deal.” She hums. “I know all about this mission. You guys were getting close, but not close enough. If I just let things play out how they were supposed to, well, you’d have been here longer than you were supposed to and…” Her lips thin. “ _Someone_ would’ve gotten really, badly hurt.” 

His mind instantly goes to Lucy, and she must see that terror on his face, because she nods once. “I mean, she would've made it, and, well, it would’ve brought you guys closer. But, uh, I think I know of a better way to do that without almost maiming her.” 

His head is spinning, but he stuffs the tape into his pocket and watches her closely as she reaches into her purse again. This time, she reaches for his hand and holds onto him desperately. 

“Give this to her.” She thinks a minute, her nose scrunching up briefly before she’s dropping something cold into his hand. “Give this to Lucy.” 

He looks down to find a simple chain in his palm, and affixed to it, an empty locket. 

But it’s not just any locket. It’s Lucy’s locket. The one he’d never seen her without until that fateful day when she’d given it away in Chinatown. The one that had been lost in time forever. 

His mouth feels dry. He looks up sharply as the girl closes his fingers around it. There are tears in her eyes again, and when she smiles, he catches a glimpse of someone he knows better than he knows himself. His heart seizes, and he searches the girl’s face deeper. 

“Who _are_ you?” He whispers. But deep down, he _knows_. 

The girl shakes her head, dark curls bouncing. “I know you’ll get it to her.” She smiles warmly at him. “Just… don’t wait so long to tell her how you feel, okay? Trust me, you may have a time machine, but it’s not like you have all the time in the world.” 

His heart is pounding wildly in his chest, and he’s almost positive he’ll faint. It’s _preposterous._ But now that the notion is planted in his head, it can’t be unseen. Not when he should have seen it before, should have noticed the slight accented tilt in her voice, and the dimpled crease in her round cheeks when she smiled. He should have seen…

 _Lucy._

And… _himself_?

“Don’t say _anything._ ” She smiles, and gives his fingers a squeeze. “You don’t know me. You _don’t_.”

“Not _yet_ , anyways.” He croaks, looking down at her hand that’s curled around his fist. He can’t help but drop his other hand over hers, dragging his thumb over the back of her hand gently. This _has_ to be a dream. Maybe he got knocked over the head back in the party, maybe they failed, maybe he’s this is just all…made up. 

But her touch is real and warm, and ghostly familiar. She’s not a dream, she’s _real_. Those eyes are like Lucy’s, all melted chocolate and quiet ferocity. There’s a smattering of freckles intermittently placed across her face that are uniquely _Preston_ and her voice, that _smile_. His _mother’s_ smile. 

It was utter insanity. And he knew he probably should have considered the likelihood of Rittenhouse being involved. But deep down in his gut, he knew it was real. She was real. Despite everything, his and Lucy’s future _daughter_ was standing before him, her small hand clasped around his. 

His knees knock together, but he remains steady. He’d spent so long telling himself not to hope when it came to him and Lucy. He’d told himself it could never, ever be. And yet, this girl standing before him is proof that…

Well, _what_ , exactly? Where do they end up? 

His heart seizes when her smile turns sad. A few teardrops rain down her cheeks when she blinks, and his fingers itch to brush them away, to comfort her. They’re phantom feelings he’s felt before for a daughter that he’d failed in the past, a daughter he's fought for all this time. But now...they're back in full force for a girl he's never known, but who he suddenly prays and _hopes_ he'll know one day. 

It makes his stomach churn. 

“I know I probably shouldn’t have come here. But I just…wanted to save you guys some trouble on this mission and… speed things along between you two and…I don’t know. _See_ you, I guess.” Her smile trembles. “It's been...well...let's just say I’ve waited a long time for this.” 

He wants to ask her what she means by that, what happens to them, what happens to _him_ , but he _knows_ that he can’t. And given the tears in her eyes, it can’t be anything good. Somehow, he’s failed her by not being there for her in some way shape or form. And it guts him inside, knowing he’s something has happened out of his control yet again and that he’d failed _another_ child. 

“Will this change _anything_?” Garcia asks quietly. “Anything at all?”

“I don’t really know. I _hope_ it does. For the better, that is.” She licks her lips and smiles again, slowly pulling her hand away from his.

“I don’t know what to say.” He swallows thickly. 

“‘Thank you’ might work.” She says teasingly. “But…there’s not really anything either of us can say without making everything go ka-boom.” There’s a musical sound to her laugh and it makes him smile, despite the stinging tears that are beginning to form in his eyes. Her gaze softens, and she reaches out to squeeze his arm. “It’s okay. Seeing you, giving these to you, that’s enough for me. For now, anyways.” 

He doesn’t know what exactly that means, but he nods anyways, looking down at the locket she’d placed in his hand. 

“I should really go. I’ve got other love stories to tend to. That’s kind of my job, funnily enough.” 

“Your job?” He can’t help but chuckle. 

“I’d elaborate, but y’know.” The girl winks at him. “Tell Wyatt and Jessica they owe me one, okay?” Her nose crinkles and she waves her hands in the air. “You know what, nevermind, don’t. I’ve said too much as it is.” 

Before he can retort, a new voice chimes in with exactly what he’s thinking. “ _Hardly._ ” 

The girl’s eyes widen and her smile falls instantly. “Oh, God. I’m in so much trouble.” She retorts, clearly on instinct. Garcia can’t help but smile when she curses under her breath in a language that sounds _far_ from English and slowly turns around. The terror on her face is laughable, but he’s in no laughing mood when her shoulders slump in relief at the sight of Lucy. 

Not _her_ Lucy, if his assumptions are correct. 

Lucy’s dark eyes lock on the girl’s face for a long, tense moment. He can’t really tell what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling. Not until her dark eyes move to Garcia’s face, and a shiver crawls up his spine. The look of wonder and confusion was identical to the girl’s standing between them, who glances over her shoulder anxiously up at him. 

“I need to go.” She says quietly, staring up at him in awe before looking back at Lucy. “How much did you hear?” 

Lucy’s face is still, but Garcia can tell that she’s surveying the girl’s face intently, that she’s no doubt seeing herself in that face. He can pinpoint the exact moment when she sees someone else in the girl’s face, and when her eyes look to him once more, it solidifies _everything_. 

“Enough.” Lucy whispers, and Garcia knows it’s taking great restraint for her not to question the girl between them. Her fingers fumble at her sides, squeezing the sparkling party dress. “Y-you _should_ go.” 

The girl nods in agreement. For a split second, she looks as if she’s going to throw her arms around Lucy, but thinks better of it and just steps past her. Lucy doesn’t let herself watch her go, instead choosing to look up at Garcia, her eyes growing glassy with tears. 

Garcia does watch the girl go, his eyes trailing her as she moved through the garden, slipping further and further away from them. She’s almost out of sight, but then she turns, giving them one last lingering look. 

And then…she collides with a shrub. 

Garcia Flynn can’t help the laughter that bursts out of him. Lucy quickly looks over her shoulder just as the girl jumps to her feet and runs out of sight. 

“Did she just…” Lucy gasps out a laugh, noticing the fallen shrub the girl had left in her wake. He’s still laughing, 

“She must get that from you.” Garcia chortles without thinking.

Lucy whirls around. “So, that _was_ who I think it was?” 

Garcia licks his lips, looking towards the overturned shrub across the garden. Sobering, he turns towards Lucy. “I don’t know. M-maybe. I guess we’ll have to wait and see, hm?” He takes a step towards her, his heart suddenly pounding the closer he gets. “No pressure, you know.” 

“Right, no pressure.” She drawls sarcastically, but something warm and soft melts in her dark eyes. “What did she tell you?” 

He shakes his head. “Nothing, really. She’s rather cryptic, that one.” 

Lucy tilts her head to the side, rosy colored lips curving into a teasing smile. “Wonder where she gets _that_ from.” 

Garcia’s heart does a little skip, and he ducks his head to hide the sheepish smile that’s spreading across his face. Lucy is looking towards the fallen shrub. “This mission is getting a little too heavy for me.” 

He nods in agreement. “I’ll say. You're certainly taking it better than me, though.” 

"I can assure you, Garcia, there's plenty of internal screaming happening right now." She chuckles. "I think when we get home we should get a drink."

"I definitely don't disagree." Sighing, he forces himself to get his head back in the game. “What are you doing out here? Not having any luck inside?” 

“No.” Her lips thin. “Well, that, and I saw you leave. I had to make sure everything was…” She blushes, and shakes her head with a dry laugh. 

“Worried about me, Lucy?” He can’t help but drawl. 

“More than you know.” She rolls her eyes, but that warmth hasn’t melted away and despite the sarcasm in her tone, it’s full of truth. “But, God, I swear, this is the mission that never ends. I didn’t think finding this tape would be so hard. I mean, we _should_ be one step ahead of them, but Rufus is having zero luck and Wyatt-”

“Wait.” He stuffs his hand into his pocket and holds his closed fists out to her. “Merry Christmas, Lucy.” He holds his hands out to her, and she frowns at him. 

“It’s New Years Eve, Garcia.” She chortles. 

“Back home it’s not. And truth be told, I’ve been having a terrible time at picking out a gift for you.”

“You don’t have to get me anything.” She waves her hand absently, but there’s a pink flush creeping along her cheeks. 

“Oh trust me, I know. But I wanted to. And it’s not like we get many chances to dash off to the mall. So unless you want some old newspapers or a Netflix subscription renewal,” he shakes his fists at her, “I suggest you pick one.”

Lucy almost looks like she wants to scold him and tell him they don’t have time for this, but she can’t resist. She taps his left fist, and he unfurls his fingers, revealing the tape that had been given to him. 

Her face lights up and she gasps, “Yes!” She reaches out and grabs it, beaming as she turns it over in her hands. “ _How_ did you get this?” 

“From our clumsy, ah,” Garcia waves towards the overturned shrub, “Clumsy little friend.” 

He had nearly slipped, nearly said _daughter_ , but saying that out loud would be…too much. He wanted nothing more than to hope, for all of this to be true. But it terrified him to no end. He couldn’t hope that his life would go that route ever again. He couldn’t hope that Lucy and he would ever…  


Lucy clutches the tape reverently, a relieved sigh escaping her as she nods. “She seems to be a good kid.” Her eyes are glassy again, like she too doesn’t want to admit it out loud, like she's also trying to stop herself from hoping too hard for it to be true. 

His heart lifts slightly as he takes notice of this. If Lucy longs to hope that _this_ could be their future, then maybe he could too? The thought terrifies him, but it also soothes the anxiety stewing within him. Garcia smiles at her and simply nods once, forcing himself to refrain from commenting. “We’d better get this tape to the boys. I’m ready to get the hell out of here.” 

“Me too.” She slips the tape into her purse, and before they can exit the garden, her eyes drop to his other closed fist. A smile slips over her lips as she taps his hand, and he reflexively opens it to reveal the locket. 

Lucy stares unblinkingly at the locket. Shock etches its way across her face, and he knows she doesn’t believe it’s real. Hesitantly, Garcia lifts the necklace from his hand and moves to clasp it into place around her neck. This startles her, and she grabs at his arms almost as if she’s going to push him away. But her fingers are digging into his skin, holding onto him for dear life as she looks down at the locket now resting against the sparkling fabric of her dress. 

“But…but _how?_ How did she get it?” She drags one hand away from his arm, fingertips dragging over the chain and then over the locket itself. “I never thought I’d see this again.” 

“No idea. But I hope she tells us one day.” He murmurs.

“I hope so too.” Her voice is watery, and when she blinks, a tear slips from her eye in a motion that was identical to the girl who had just stood between them only moments ago. He catches it, his thumb brushing along the soft skin of her face.

Lucy’s dark eyes lift to his, and he shivers from the warmth that suddenly blooms in his chest. It feels too much like hope, and he really, really doesn’t want it to grow into something he believes will happen. But he just… _needs_ it. He _needs_ hope. 

Something tickles in the back of his mind, and he lingers over the word _hope_. It’s slowly clicking in his head. He looks back to the overturned shrub. _Hope_. From the very beginning, Garcia Flynn had found hope in the words and person that was Lucy Preston. Now, it was that hope that was guiding him on, all this time. And clearly in the future, he would still be clinging to that hope that she instilled within him. _Hope_. 

Hope. It’s a good name.

A watery laugh escapes him, and before anything more can be said, Garcia pulls her against his chest. Lucy comes without hesitation, her arms slipping around his waist and grasping at his suit jacket. He’s known this for a while now, but Lucy’s small frame fits perfectly in his arms. But now, it feels like he’s holding her for the very first time. 

_Hope._

Lucy sags with relief against him, her tears turning to soft laughter, and he can’t help but place a kiss to her forehead. 

“Best Christmas ever.” She murmurs. “Best kid ever.”

Garcia chuckles. “She must get that from me.”


End file.
